The Reality of Dreaming
by Theoriginalflame
Summary: Dean is all kinds of messed up and keeping things from Sam, but when Cas keeps turning up in his dreams Dean thinks he might be able to start putting his life back together a bit, and sleep a lot more. Its amazing what getting your best friend back can do for a guy. But this is Deans life, and nothings ever quite that easy is it? Set early season 7 this will eventually be Dean/Cas
1. Chapter 1

**An:** I'm trying to write a novel, and in my head it had a great setting,a well rounded cast and a solid plot but all that pops into my head is fan-friknin-fiction, what's a girl to do? So after how many years..? I thought Id give in and have a wee scribble. This is painfully obviously going to be a boy on boy love story (eventually) because as I'm sure you all know, they are totally adorable and easy to write without ever having to bring in your own life. If you don't like slash, not totally sure why you bothered coming this far? If you do, I REALY hope you enjoy :)

This comes in somewhere around the start of season 7, so Spoilers. But not too many and I'll fiddle a lot so you don't need to worry too much. Oh and the rating will go up.

**Chapter 1**

He doesn't like to brag _that_ often about it but he's at least as smart as any hunter should be, so when Dean Winchester finds himself in a park he vaguely remembers with a too blue sky and no memory of what came previously, well he's not going to show off about the fact that the hand that appeared on his shoulder didn't stay there long.

In a blink they are both on the floor, hunter on top of his prize with one elbow pressed hard against the offenders adams apple.

"Cas?"

"Indeed," wide blue eyes quickly become hooded and miserable "I am sorry to intrude."

Dean is doing his best I'm Sammy and I look like this 'cuz I'm a massive frikin bitch face in counter.

"How are you even here?" he doesn't mention that he doesn't know what the angel has intruded _on_ because last time he saw Cas the guy was just a meat suit for Gods little black sheep society, and dead. Hell even the trench coat beneath him cant even be real, it is hidden under the drivers seat in the car. He knows, he checked on it...recently.

"I'm not entirely sure I am Dean. I feel very real, but this is_ your_ dream, and I'm not quite...what I was, perhaps I'm not." Blue eyes definitely don't meet green, Dean thinks if he'd made Cas up then they definitely would, because he wants to see if Angel boys lying and it'd be easer if they did. He huffs out a sigh.

"This is no dream of mine man, do you see a single busty Asian beauty? Cuz I sure as hell don't." He forcefully digs his elbow further into Cas's throat when he belatedly realizes the grips been easing off. To his credit the angel hasn't moved a fraction and does nothing with this renewed discomfort, his throat strains against forearm when he speaks again.

"Just... imagine them Dean, if that's what you want, this place is yours." Cas doesn't stop looking so grim and its hard to look at while trying to concentrate so Dean doesn't. He flexes the fingers that hold both Cas's hands above their heads and satisfied he's still in control he shuts his lids.

Miss September is a hot favorite, curves in all the right places and an ass to die for, but his heads noisy and every time he pictures her, naked flesh is quickly covered by a dripping wet trench coat. Hes super close to growling when he opens his eyes and drinks in the disheveled hair and piercing blue (_now _he looks) Dean does not like failing, not when he's trying. A flash of an idea hits him though and they are thrown into shadow almost immediately.

This hunter and his easy grin Cas thinks absently, is what he has missed most.

"Baby" the black and chrome lines, the wheels sinking an unfortunate amount in the grass the scratches soon to be polished out when he and Sammy get a few minutes peace. They are all exactly right, perfectly in place from this angle.

Dean is off the angel almost as quick as the car appeared running a hand reverently over the car he built with his own hands, again and again. Nothing short of perfect no matter how many times he'd had to do it.

"Nice work angel boy." Cas had no idea why he's getting the credit or why he's being aloud off the floor but he stays quiet as the other takes up a place on the hood, looking for all the world perfectly relaxed. "What the hells going on Cas?

Dean for his part, is actually a mess. He has missed Cas for months. He missed having someone look up to him like Sammy doesn't do any more, he missed having someone to fix things like his dad doesn't do any more, hell he'd even missed someone who got just how frikin awesome double cheese burgers were with him, like Lisa doesn't any more...

He's missed his angel of Thursday long before he'd gone on his little power trip and slowly Dean had started to blame himself for not being there, for not being what the struggling angel had needed. Not being strong enough, interested enough and well, like he'd told Sam after that run in with Osiris. Everything was Deans fault some how, so his best friend going dark side? Definitely Deans fault.

That said, he's a Winchester and Sam's probably battling Lucifer at that exact moment, and yeah Dean should have fixed Cas, but Cas shouldn't have screwed up _or _screwed Sam up.


	2. Chapter 2

AN- I hope someone out there likes this, I'd hand out cookies but all I have is cake, will that do?

**Chapter 2**

"What the hells going on Cas?"

"I'm, unsure."

"Come on man," Dean was too tired for this, bone deep weary and he wasn't sure there was room on his list of god-damn shit to do.

"There was a thread," the angel stood, stoically as he always had, his head finally tilting as Dean felt possibly it should for some reason. Perhaps because it hadn't in a long time. "I followed it and... well, it ends here, we're in your head Dean, of that I'm sure. I... I just do not know why."

"Right man, so, your you know, alive and kicking? Why didn't you come? I've tried calling you man, and Sammy could have done with you firkin help. But you know that." Dean hadn't meant to let the bitterness show so blatantly. He should have been better help to Sam, it wasn't often he relied on someone else for his baby brothers well being.

"I am so sorry Dean, I would do anything to make it all up to you. Please believe me. But no, I can't help him. I am... definitely dead."

"Then what man, you can't be dead AND here in my head, my head damn well better be alive." Even as Dean says it he's not totally sure. He's a hunter, and if anyone's gunna die, well Deans had more than his fare share of losing hands. He doesn't feel dead though, and that's another thing he thinks he'd recognize or at least remember.

"You are alive Dean, I am quite sure. This is... Unexplained. Perhaps it is a fiction of my own mind. An escape perhaps. I don't think so however."

"Ugh" Dean drags a calloused hand over his face and regards Castiel through his fingers for a split second. "Fine man, fine. like I don't have enough on my damn plate." He thinks briefly of Sam's monster friend, the one he killed. It had been the right thing, but his gut twists and he needs a drink.

Jack Daniels appears in the ground, and for a second his only thought is that thank god it didn't appear on the bonnet and add another scratch to the Impala. He looks up in, a habit he realizes Cas would understand better than most, incredulity at God. Their in his head though and it was him that wanted the drink, not the first act of god in a long time he reminds himself.

He takes a long drink just because he can and chucks the bottle to his companion.

"Being dead sucks dude, drink up." but Castiel doesn't drink, his blue eyes flash in fear and dart around from sky to grass to Dean in record time before he settles on looking at his feet.

"Good bye Dean, I am so, so sorry"

"What the fu-" Dean sits bolt up right before he registers he's sitting.

"Dude, you need to stop drinking." Its Sammy and bitch face no.16. Dean lobs his pillow and feels a little smug when Sam faffs about it.

"Shut up bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean looks at the crappy motel, the slightly yellowing paper and familiar yet different damp patches around the door frame. He braces and then runs to the shower room as Sam throws the pillow back at him. "Too slow Samantha!" he yells even as Sam is yelling at him not to use all the hot water.

When he gets into the shower he allows himself to groan quietly as the hangover catches up with him _again_. He'll fix that soon, his hip flask is loaded and ready to go somewhere.

He needs to tell Sam about Castiel as well his brain reminds him helpfully. He shakes his head and swears he feels his brain hit off the walls of his skull with a squelch. That'll teach it he thinks viciously and crawls into the shower trying to block out the vision of the knife sliding out of Sam's blond brain sucker girlfriend he's presents himself with every morning for forever now.

He brushes his teeth with whiskey that morning and ignores Sam bitching about some chick named Kesha and frowning behind his back when he thinks Dean isn't looking.

He definitely doesn't think about Castiel, and if he checks under his seat of the Impala and goes quiet for awhile when his fingers brush the Trench coats tan material, well, that definitely doesn't happen ether so he doesn't need to worry about it.

They hunt witches that day.


	3. Chapter 3

**An:** Please tell me if this is awful, or even just things you'd improve, this is my first supernatural fanfic and I'm not sure how to get the characters quite right. Pwety Please with Micha Collins on top?

**Chapter 3**

They caught their first Leviathan. Don the witch caught the Leviathan really but Dean was still chalking it up as a win for team Free Will. His baby brother on the other hand was too busy getting his lady parts all worked up to celebrate. It makes Deans fingers itch.

"Dean, I don't care, what ever it is just talk to me okay? I'm your brother, who else understands you like I do? Hell, I share my head with the devil, what's weirder than that?" Dean pulled the car over on the hard shoulder, briefly grateful it was dark out. They were driving through the night to get Mr. Super Bad Purgatory Runaway to Bobby while the witches magic held.

And wasn't that a kick in the teeth. How many good people had died back there in that town? Killed by the couple of hoodoo wielding crazys that Dean had left to do whatever the fuck they liked because they'd been helpful with one damn Leviathan. Dean hadn't done the same for a woman who'd killed a few bad people to keep a child alive, not even for Sam. He'd ran her through.

Not to mention Sam shares his head with the Devil, and Dean is dreaming of the angel that sent Lucifer the invite. He'll tell Sam, just not now.

Dean kills the ignition, slams the door and smashes the keys into his brothers hand.

"I'm tired, you drive." Deans eyes don't meet Sam's even once he's sunk into the vacated passengers seat and found his comfort at the bottom of a hip flask.

"Don't Sam." Dean knows his little brother is dying to go all Betty Ford on him. Sleep is a luxury he could always do with and it might shake Sam but he's worried he's dealing his sanity a blow.

Dean slips off anyway, its probably the drink.

Cas doesn't show up till the next time he sleeps though. Two days later.

Alastair has Deans heart in his hand. There's a hole that goes through the top of the hunters shoulder (through the bones as well as the rest) that the damn demon has buried his arm in up to the elbow while his fingers squeeze the still beating heart until Dean thinks he's going to explode with the pain of it. He lets go just long enough for the blood to flow again and with a slow chuckle squeezes again. Deans blood sloshes from his shoulder and his whole body's screaming again.

Its not till Deans mouth is too full of blood to scream aloud that Castiel appears. His wide blue eyes burn and he twitches like a feral cat for as long as it takes for Dean to notice him.

"Please." It comes out choked and wet and Dean doesn't know if Cas is even real or just an illusion. Somewhere he thinks the angel was never used against him in hell. Not like Sam and his mother were, _it didn't matter how much he'd pleaded with them_. They've been at this for hours.

After that it takes less than a second. Castiel glows, not like a horse shoe left in the fire for too long but like a star that's been reeled in from night sky. Its white and pure and as terrifying as Judgment Day and Dean thinks he's a goner all over again as everything is swallowed by it.

As the light fades though he's back in that oddly familiar park, his mouth is clear and his modesty covered. He even thinks there's birds, honest to god_ birds _singing in place of the screams of hell from moments ago.

He rolls his shoulders. He's a hunter, he can take this, pull yourself together Winchester.

"I'm sorry I'm not around to help with your nightmares any more Dean." of course its Cas.

"Yeah, whatever man." Dean doesn't want to talk about Dean. "So, you got your mojo back?" Cas just shakes his head, his eyes crinkle in what might just be as close to a smile as Deans seen in a long time. He likes it, which is annoying, because he's still angry with the angel, but he is a bit fried just now, torture and all that.

"I told you before Dean, this is your realm. Your belief in me is what gives me... mojo here."

"Ooohkay." the silence made Dean itch again. " So Angel boy, I'm in charge right? Cuz I want a beer and the park life is all great and all but..." _I can still feel fingers squeezing my life away from the inside. _He probably doesn't need to say that though, he knows Cas has seen enough of Deans Highlights from Hell.

"Of course."


	4. Chapter 4

**An-** Thanks so much to **Soxs93** and **SuperWoman0124** for reviewing, it makes all kinds of deliverance to my day :) Thank you Chocolate Cas-sicles all round and Soxs, I hope its a bit clearer now? Also if anyone's still here, does anyone have a preference, short chapters quickly or longer chapters slowly? Ta :)

**Chapter 4**

They drink in a bar Dean recognizes, with punters he recognizes too, it makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't know any of them by name though and not a one of them disturbs the two of them as they order their drinks -from the blond that Dean almost but didn't quite 'tap' a few jobs ago, she smiles but doesn't talk, he's not sure if that's weird-

Cas inspects his drink with a tiny frown which makes him warm inside, if Deans getting drunk its sure as hell not on his own _again_, besides where but his own head is he going to get away with ordering a triple absinthe on the rocks?

"So Cas man, where for art thou?" Deans trying for funny but his hands still kinda shaking from the hole that's no longer through his shoulder. When the blue eyes in front of him take to studying the table it gets a little worse

"I... I'm in hell Dean, where I belong."

"Oh," he'd been dreading that. Yeah the angel of the fourth day had screwed up, and sure Dean expects his own One Way Trip to end there too but he kinda quietly always hopes that Sam and Bobby and by proxy of once being family, Cas finish up somewhere better than that. "So eh...queuing? Hows that working out for you?" _please please please _he thinks quietly because if Crowly can do him this one solid, he might be nice next time the sees the British bastard and kill him quickly after all.

"I am... not one of the souls that takes a ticket." Deans not sure he's ever seen Cas go pale before and it kinda sickens him, this guy played God, sucked in every soul in Purgatory and basically screwed up everything for Dean, including his baby frikin brother. Pale as he is though Dean knows that its all his fault and that given the choice he'd probably still give his old friend a happily ever after eventually.

Why did he think Cas was capable of fighting a war all on his own, just look at the bastard. Dean had fought wars sure, with Sam and Bobby and Joe and Ellen and Ash and Cas himself by his side. With the shoe on the other foot though Dean had never once stood by Cas. Yeah, he downs his liqueur, he's a bastard, he knows.

"I killed my brothers, rebelled against my father himself Dean there is no other place for me. I deserve this."

Its from 40 years in the pit, longer than Deans lived out side of it that he knows, just knows that of all the tattered torn souls he come across down there, this ridiculous angel with an aversion for personal space and unresolved daddy issues is the least deserving of torture he's ever known, Cas's soul probably _glitters_ for gods sake, glitters around the holes in it admittedly but glitters all the same. .

Its all hard, and making him sick and his hands are still trying to shake and he hates it.

"No you don't, not now not ever do you hear me Feather Brains? No one deserves that." he can't look at Cas as his mouth runs off, he'll just have to hope his old friend gets that its true.

"Hm." They both drink , neither flinch as the alcohol burns all the way down (this is Deans head after all, only the good stuff here) "how is Sam?" when did angel boy learn to change the subject Dean wonders and then almost laughs at what a bad subject change it is -_only Castiel_- .but he feels like he's just been hit by a truck so he doesn't.

Deans through with talking, Cas being in hell makes him crazy, especially as not ten minuets earlier he'd been having his own Happy Times in Hell Re-Run.

"Cas I'll fix this." he's got so much to do, with the Leviathans, Sam, drinking enough to maintain an even saturation and Dick frikin' Roman but he means it.

Cas's cold hand reaches out and prise the empty drink from between Deans fingers where he staring trying to avoid the guilt that eats at him when he looks up. Dean likes it when their fingers brush though, it reminds him that here at least Cas is solid and real and he wants nothing more than to grab handfuls of the angel just so he can hold on. Crowly cant have him if Dean never lets go right?

"No Dean." He sounds every bit the God he's not making orders like that, "I wont leave hell. This though" he waves a hand at Dean, the bar and the blond that Dean isn't sure moves when he's not thinking about her "this... I will take, right or wrong, but the punishment fits the crime Dean, I must pay for my sins." He's not got it in him to argue any more, he's tired, so very frikin tired and what's one more little lie to an angel on his list of sins?

"Okay, okay Cas, whatever you say." The tension doesn't break there though so the hunter reaches for a straw and clutches at it "You wana try your luck on the pool table angel boy?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The radio flairs into life just as Deans about to sink the black and kick Cas's feathery ass _again_. He slams his hand at its general direction and grunts as it shuts the hell up. So he's awake now hu? Well that's just frikin skippy, his stomach churning and that sore head? Well their just skippy too. Dean does morning things, washing, teeth brushing, relieving himself with his eyes half closed but by the time he's downstairs with Bobby and Sam he's all swag and panty dropping smiles, which _probably_ has nothing to do with the 80percent prof on his breath, who has time to waste with mouthwash when there's an evil bastard running the country?

Things go like this for awhile. Dean fits a little fruitless research into breaking an angel out of hell around a crate of Jack, a guilt complex and Dick frikin' Roman for the next week, trying to gloss it all over with the only two people alive who cares if he exits with cocky smiles and throw away lines.

He's more exhausted by the day though and despite his best efforts Sam snaps at him more often. Even Bobby is shorter with him. Dean catches him one day muttering about the boy turning out like John fucking Winchester and Dean spends the rest of the day shooting cans from a wall. He finds he can still shoot straight after a hip flask of whiskey and three beers, he counts it as a win.

Things are stale and it makes Dean think even more of the girl he killed. His little Sammys girl.

They take up a case finally though and Dean offers to drive but this brother takes the keys first and bitches him out for offering to kill them both with Dean behind the wheel. He wouldn't have gotten away with it if the Impala was still on the road Dean glowers bitterly.

To Sam's surprise though Dean gives in and sulks in the passengers seat for all of 10 minuets before covering himself with his battle worn jacket and dozing off. Sam does a lot of thinking about his big brother falling apart and drives to the small town with the zombie house cats a bit faster than he should.

Dean's used to Cas showing up in his dreams now. It's no less awkward when he has to be saved from nightmares but today its just Dean and a fishing rod. It gives the hunter an unhindered view of Cas taking a few moments to stop twitching when he arrives though, something he tends to miss when he's in a pool of his own blood.

It's a tiny reaction in anyone else, but Dean knows hell, and Dean knows Cas. The speed in which Cas shakes off the torture seemed to be getting slower but it still amazes the hunter.

"Angel boy," He nods after a while, not wanting to mention the obvious. Cas doesn't say anything when he has to go all Holy Wrath on the demons that haunt the hunter and Dean could not have been more grateful for that. He hopes Cas knows he's just returning the favour by handing him the fishing rod without a word.

"Pull up a pew Feathers, you're gunna catch me my dinner."

"I do not believe you can eat in your sleep." Dean laughs a little and doesn't know whether Cas is frowning at the physical impossibility or the nickname.

"Oh yeah, tell that to Samsquach the Fast Asleep as he raids the fridge, swear I had to keep a padlock on that shit when he was a kid."

Cas just hums and holds the fishing rod awkwardly, still standing straight as a linebacker in a strip club.

"Dude," Dean protests standing up even as a khaki deck chair appears behind the stiff angel. "you'll never catch anything like that, give it here and pay attention."

This has become their routine, with the whole of imagination beneath their feet Dean has taken to teaching Cas the little human things he likes to think every kid is taught at some time in their life.

Tree climbing had been one of the first.

Cas had arrived at that dream just in time to see a black eyed Sam hissing at his brother about growing up as the youngest child of a hunter, of how his big brother should have set him free, should have saved him from a childhood of demon traps and washing off blood but instead Dean had dragged him bloody and broken through it because Dean was too selfish to do it alone, to let Sam escape to do things real kids should be doing. How Dean had forced him to wield a gun rather than climb trees.

When Cas had got it together and blasted Demon Sam out of there they ended up alone in the gold lit apple orchard, a makeshift shooting range laid out among the beauty. Deans shoulders had shook, if hunters cried he'd be crying a river, but they didn't, so he shook some more.

Cas had done the only thing he could think of. He'd stiffly asked Dean to teach him to climb trees.

It was awful at first, Dean was reluctant and angry but Cas persisted, ignoring forcefully the battered tin cans of the shooting range in favour or reaching for a branch too high on the nearest tree. Stitches in his shirt tore in protest but he persisted.

The sight of the fully grown angel, trench coat and all tangled in the bottom branches and cursing in Enochian had eventually cracked Dean. He bit out a laugh and finally ordered Castiel take of the precious coat, who the hell climbed in a jacket?!

They had spent what could have been hours there, Dean beating Cas to the top of almost every tree as the evening light hung the whole time between them. They were scratched, hands covered in sticky sap and Cas's shirt and trousers were filthy. They had regarded each other at the top of the last tree, Dean flushed and Cas a disaster.

"Thanks Dork." Dean smirked looking past the angels eyes to the twigs stuck in his hair. Cas managed a nod before they were ripped away.

Today wasn't climbing trees though, today was fishing.

Dean showed him how to cast off, lent close when he reeled the rod in and tisked when he got the angle wrong.

"That'll do Feathers, before we scare the rest of the fish away" The hunter announced after Cas's fifth cast, "we can't all have my natural talent after all. Dig it into the ground there and grab a seat."

"Are we just supposed to sit here?" The being with the borrowed blue eyes wondered aloud.

"With the mess you made out there? We'll be sitting here forever." The easy grin on the hunters face made the prospect infinitely pleasing.

Dean was feeling lighter than he had in days, he still wasn't completely convinced this wasn't all in his imagination, but he'd take it where he could. Beers appeared next to them and they polished them off in silence. Castiel out of politeness.

The blaring of a horn jolted Dean awake. His gut lurched.

"Your such a bitch." he muttered at Sam who was grinning gleefully standing just in reach of the car horn through the drivers window.

"Whatever jerk, you know out of the two of use, your totally the girl."

"What ever you need to tell yourself Samantha." Dean felt good, he almost had to double check with himself, but he was pretty sure even half asleep he recognised the feeling.

"Uh-hu, I'm gunna hit that diner over there, you comin' or do you need more beauty sleep there princess?"

Dean groaned and exited the car running a hand across his face.

"Bitch please, I'm always fabulous." Sam burst out laughing and to Dean it felt like a cold water after a long run. Maybe things would be OK between them.

Halfway to the diner though Dean felt the first tremor of alcohol withdraw.


End file.
